Late Night Visitors
by Domicile
Summary: “Right,” You frown, “Planned Parenthood always makes me want to have unprotected sex.” Cam oneshot


You're a good sleeper. You always have been. But let's face fact, you are born and raised in Seattle, which means even in sleep you are acutely aware of strange noises and shifts in the atmosphere of your brother's loft. So when a key slides home in the door, your eyes pop open.

But the fact that it's a key in the door calms you down a bit since only four people possess such a key, the options of who are limited. It couldn't be Mrs. Benson. At least, you are hoping it isn't because her sneaking into the apartment at just after two in the morning for any reason at all brought on a whole new level of creepiness. Spencer is already inside and fast asleep, tucked away in the new set of footy pajamas he purchased a week earlier, so he wouldn't be at the door. You're stretched out under a thick layer of blankets with your key on your desk, so you are definitely not the culprit. But who knows, this could be an out of body experience. It's Sam, though, who creaks open your bedroom door and lingers momentarily in the moonlight.

"Carly?" She hisses in a loud whisper, which makes you smile.

You remain silent, glad you are hidden in the shadows, and watch her strip off her outer layers in preparation for joining you under the covers. She curses several times as she stumbles over your abandoned clothing articles and other odds and ends.

"Carly?"

Her voice shatters the silence, but you don't mind. And you definitely don't mind when she crawls up your bed. It is kind of bothersome, however, when she plops down on your stomach.

"Carly!"

"What?" You finally bite out and wish there hadn't been so much venom in your voice, but in your defense, your stomach kind of hurts thanks to her.

"Oh, good. You're awake." She grins down at you. Her thighs clench and unclench against your sides and you relish in the odd feeling.

"Yeah, because of you."

"Oh please. You were awake when I came in, weren't you?"

She knows you so well it scares you sometimes. After a moment of silence, confirming her suspicions, she giggles.

"I knew it."

"Oh you did not." You snarl at her, but there's no force behind it. You rock from side to side, trying to dislodge her. But she only tightens her thighs against you. "What are you even doing here?"

She holds a finger up. "Right! I had an apostrophe."

"An epiphany."

"Whatever. I had an epiphany." Her voice is mocking, but there's no harshness in it.

"Yeah? Enlighten me." You mumble somewhat sarcastically.

"It isn't that simple. I can't just yell out my epiphany."

"Why not?"

"Because they don't often happen to me. I want to relish in the moment."

"I think you just want relish."

"Whatever. It's not important. I think we need to talk this out."

You wiggle your way into a sitting position and stare at her. She smiles back like you do this every night, but for some reason you are electing to be difficult now.

"Tonight?" You squeak at her, your voice cracking with its lack of liquid.

"It's actually morning." She informs you.

"Fine. Go." You let your hand fall through the air like some kind of flag.

"My mom said she wants me to have a baby, but not to worry because she'll take care of it."

You're fully awake now, staring at her like she just told a bad joke. "What?"

"Yeah."

"You're sixteen."

"Really? I didn't know."

"Sam…"

"Well, I told her I couldn't."

"And?"

"And she asked if I was infertile."

"Awkward."

"Yeah."

It's then that you realize she's still sitting on you and you don't dislike the feeling. In fact, it's sending very positive signals to lower parts of your body. Extraordinarily positive signals.

"So?"

She just frowns at you like she hadn't stopped abruptly in her revelation story. "So?"

"Is that the end of your epiphany? Your mom asking if you are infertile?" You encourage and she nods with her brain catching back onto the wave link.

"God no. I wish. But that was why I was at Planned Parenthood this morning and that's where my epiphany occurred!" She smiles triumphantly.

"At Planned Parenthood?"

"Yes."

"What kind of epiphany could you possibly have there?" You question, forcing your focus back on her story. And it's quite the task because her lower extremities are rubbing into previously un-rubbed areas and that's bad. And yet, so, so good.

"That I didn't need to get protection."

"Right," You frown, "Planned Parenthood always makes me want to have unprotected sex."

She chuckles at your words. "That's not what I mean."  
"Than what are we talking about?" You finally ask, your eyes widening as you take in your alarm clock and find almost a half an hour has gone by.

"I realized I didn't need protection because I will never have sex with a male specimen!" She announces in a voice much too loud for the time of night.

"Male specimen? Are you thinking of becoming a nun?" You notice the coffee on her breath suddenly and spy the cup sitting on your nightstand. You steal a swig before realizing you would have never noticed the coffee if she hadn't inched closer to you. Or maybe you are the one moving closer?

"Hell, no." She giggles. "I had the epiphany that I like girls."

Your brain halts and you stare her down through the darkness as if you'd heard her wrong. But you know you didn't and she's so close now that you almost want to stumble backwards in surprise.

"What?"

"I like girls." She repeats.

"I heard you."

"What are you thinking?" Her facial expression goes serious and you begin to worry that she's going to move away. But that's ridiculous because why should you be enjoying having her sit on you in the first place?

"I don't know." You mumble and wish you had something smarter to say.

"You could say, 'son of a bitch!' That's what my mom said."

"You told your mom?"

"I told everyone I saw in the first moments following my epiphany." She admits sheepishly and she looks so cute that you forget how to blink.

"Fantastic." You say, always the supportive friend.

"So what do you think?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm more curious as to why you are telling me this early in the morning." You sigh and shrug, eyes jumping back to the alarm clock.

"Because its you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. When I was in Planned Parenthood, all I could think about was you. And how if I was going to fuck anybody, it was going to be you."

She kissing you then and your brain is trying desperately to catch up. You can taste the coffee on her tongue and feel her lips chilled and soft against yours. And all you can think is how grateful you are for your Seattle reflexes.

And her epiphanies.


End file.
